It took me a long time to understand that it was the opposite of cruel; that the test was the kindest thing he could have done, and that the cruelty had all been supplied, in full, by my children.

Because consider what Harrison had actually done.

He had a folder of evidence.

He could have walked into my room the moment I woke and laid it all out cold — your children are trying to have you declared incompetent, here is the proof. And I would not have believed him.

I know I would not have.

I would have defended them; I would have found reasons; I would have decided that this stranger, however kind he seemed, was mistaken or malicious, because the alternative was unbearable and I was not ready to bear it.

The evidence alone would not have been enough to make me see.